Hair Dye
by eyesocketsandsuits
Summary: [[ AmeriPan Oneshots ]] Alfred and Kiku rarely fought. Some days, Alfred was moody and would throw his remote when he lost a videogame match, others, Kiku would refuse to pay for takeout. But they were harmonious, for the most part. So, it was a bit of a shock when Alfred walked in one day to find a box of hair dye on the counter.
1. Hair Dye

**Note: These were originally posted in the FF . net story "Flying Pieces of Paper." They have been moved to this new story in an organizational attempt.**

 **AmeriPan oneshots.**

* * *

Alfred and Kiku rarely fought. Their fights consisted more in the theoretical sense, tiffs that hardly existed at all. Some days, Alfred was moody and would throw his remote when he lost a videogame match, others, Kiku would refuse to pay for takeout.

But they were harmonious, for the most part. Neither of them did anything to upset the balance.

So, it was a bit of a shock when Alfred walked in one day to find a box of hair dye on the counter. Alfred looked at the box, even reached out to touch it. He jumped like it had burned him.

"Kiku?" he called, setting the various protein shakes he had bought on the counter. "Babe, why is there hair dye? I'm not going grey—there you are."

Kiku glanced up from his desk. "Do not call be 'babe.'"

Alfred leaned against the doorframe. "What's that word you like me to call you in bed?" He grinned, and Kiku's grip on his pen tightened.

"Was there something you needed?" Kiku asked softly, eyes flicking between his work and Alfred.

"Uh, yeah, why is there hair dye on the counter?" Alfred waltzed into the room, walking around Kiku and placing his chin on the top of the other man's head. "It's, like, the blond stuff, too. Did Arthur want some?"

"No, Alfred." Kiku said the two words slow, and that made Alfred lean forward, mouth pressed against the crook of Kiku's neck.

"Then who's it for?" Alfred's awkward position allowed him to lick Kiku's on the neck three times as he spoke. The other man shivered. "Not for you?" Alfred breathed, hands creeping down over Kiku's chest.

"I thought—you are drooling on me." Kiku laughed, and the computer chair leaned back. Alfred squawked and adjusted his position, lips brushing against Kiku's throat. "I'm going to dye it."

"Jelly of my hair?" Alfred kissed right underneath Kiku's ear, then kissed down. "Because I know it's fucking awesome. Like, gorgeous. Blond. Yum." Alfred nipped at Kiku's shoulder. The computer chair groaned.

Kiku tilted his head, allowing Alfred better access. "I was thinking I could dye the ends. So the roots would not show. Mm, do that again."

Alfred grinned. He loved when Kiku's voice caught like that, right at the beginning of his sentences. His hands trailed down and trailed up underneath Kiku's shirt, and the chair almost gave under their combined weight.

"I _like_ your hair," Alfred whined. "It's very… Black."

Kiku laughed, craning his neck and allowing Alfred to trail kisses wherever he pleased. "Very observant of you. I thought it would look cool."

"Mm, say _cool_ again."

Kiku laughed again, then pried himself out of Alfred's grip. The other man moaned, pouting.

"I'm going to dye it now, actually."

"What?" Alfred asked, following Kiku down the hall to the kitchen. "Are you—wait, you were _serious_? No, stop—" Alfred ran ahead and blocked the doorway. "You can't just, just, _change_ your hair color!"

Kiku rested his hands on his hips. "I can."

"No," Alfred whined again, and then his lips were against Kiku's.

Alfred grunted, not fighting the kiss but bending down, fingers curling into Kiku's hair. There was a struggle, as each man tried to distract the other so that he could go to the kitchen/bedroom.

Kiku usually won their fights.

Alfred was pressed against the doorframe, and then Kiku was gone. Alfred frowned at the other side of the door, then whipped around to watch Kiku duck toward the sink.

"Aw, Kiku, _come on_!" Alfred followed behind like a kicked puppy, growing increasingly distressed as the box was opened. "The least you can do is not leave me hanging! No, put the bleach away!"

"Alfred, don't whine."

Alfred proceeded to do nothing else for the next week.


	2. Rain, Coffee, Cursing

Alfred hated the rain. Hated the rain like the sun hated the UK. Except he was in America. This whole day was turning into a very sucky one indeed.

Apparently, his brother got _engaged_. Ugh. Who had time for the whole marriage thing? But then their mom was so freakin' excited, she kept conference calling everyone she had in her contacts, and Alfred had to listen to high pitched squealing all day. So, Alfred was stuck in his Political Science class, trying to explain to the ten people on the other line that he was in class, please stop calling.

And then it started raining. Like, pouring. When he was in the middle of walking home. So, it was winter and instead of beautiful, fluffy snow like up North, it just rained. Cold, miserable rain. Alfred hadn't brought an umbrella, because of course he didn't, and now he was walking home in the rain.

Head down, hood up, he probably looked like he was about to mug someone—if anyone was out in this weather of course.

But, then again, the one person who _was_ out, Alfred walked right into them. Like, slammed into them. Like, knocked the poor guy down.

"Shit!" Alfred pulled his hood down, crouching by the guy. "Oh, man, I'm really sorry! God damn, I even knocked your umbrella away—argh! Here, let me get it." Alfred stood, chasing after the wayward umbrella that had been picked up by the wind—because why not, right?

"No, please—"

"Dude, no, I got this!" Alfred yelled over his shoulder, hauling ass after that umbrella. And then—miracles of miracles!—he caught it. Alfred whooped and turned back to the man he had barreled over. "Here you go!"

The man was still on the ground. The umbrella was basically defunct now; the poor guy had been drenched in the few minutes it had taken Alfred to chase down the umbrella. He held the umbrella over his head, looking irritated. (Alfred would be too, if some weirdo had tackled him.)

"Ah, sorry, dude!" Alfred ran a hand through his soaking hair. "Really, I wasn't looking where I was going, but, uh… Hey?"

The man stood up, shaking his free sleeve to rid it of water. He didn't respond. God, Alfred had never felt like such a dick.

"Hey, look, man, I'm sorry. Look, let me make it up to you, alright? Want me to buy you a coffee? I know a place that's like, three second away from here. Oh, come on, it has a fire, and I owe you for pushin' you down like that."

The man looked half ready to refuse, but his shoulders slumped and he nodded. "I suppose… I will pay for my drink, however."

Alfred grinned. "Cool, dude. It's this way." They walked. "So, what's your name? I'm Alfred F. Jones. I go to college right down the street."

The man walked around the puddle as Alfred sloshed through it. "Kiku. Kiku Honda."

"Aw, like the cars?" This was the wrong thing to say, judging by the glare Kiku sent his way. Alfred pressed on, "But what do you do?" Alfred held the door open for Kiku as they arrived at the coffee place.

God, Alfred loved this place. They had a fireplace, and everyone was real chill. They sold these awesome coffees that came in actual glass, and they baked their own pastries and made their own sandwiches, and they had these comfy ass chairs. When Alfred got black-out drunk, he always woke up on the doorstep of this place, and they'd give him a free coffee if it was late enough.

"I breed cats."

Alfred's face couldn't lose the half-smile that plastered itself there. "Ohh… Cats," he nodded.

Kiku stood in line, taking off his jacket. He kept brushing the hair out of his eyes, and Alfred couldn't stop watching. It was funny, the way his wrist flicked, but the wet strands would fall back into his eyes; he kept doing it, and Alfred wasn't sure he knew that he was even doing it.

"Yes. For shows."

"Oh, I thought you were one of those crazy cat people who lived in those creepy houses way out in the middle of the mountains with your animals. Cat shows are cool. Two of the regular please, Sarah? Thanks. I'm majoring in political science." Alfred stood a little straighter as he said this. Thank god—Kiku finally seemed interested.

"Really?"

Alfred nodded, handing Sarah the money and Kiku his drink. He led the shorter man over by the fire, collapsing in one of the chairs. Kiku sat down on one nearby, warily watching Alfred as he put his feet up on the coffee table.

"Yeah! My dad's a Senator from up North, so I figured I might as well shoot for it, right?" Alfred took a sip from his coffee, eyes rolling back. "God, this is so good."

Kiku took a sip, coughing. "It is really sweet."

Alfred opened his mouth in mock horror. "You don't like it?"

Kiku stumbled for words. "Ah, no, just—"

Alfred laughed. "Dude, it's cool, I was just messin' with you."

So yeah, Alfred's day _mostly_ sucked. His brother had gotten engaged when Alfred hadn't had a significant other since Freshman year of high school, and it was pouring like God wanted another Noah's ark, and he had smashed into one of the only people out in this terrible weather.

… But coffee and talking with Kiku was nice.


	3. Baby, It's Cold Outside

Alfred searched the cabinets for lime juice. "Mm, yeah, Mum, just be safe, yeah? I'm sure the plows will get most of it soon. 'Sides, it's only for tonight." Finally—his parents had hidden it in the fridge.

"I suppose… Alright, I love you! Make sure you lock all the windows. And Alfred?"

Now, all Alfred had to do was find the cranberry juice…

"Yeah, Mum?"

"Whatever you do, don't go in the fucking liquor cabinet."

Alfred froze, the smell of cheap alcohol pouring out of the cupboard. Never mind that, Alfred thought, hanging up the phone and collecting the different drinks he would need.

"Dude, you have to come over! I'm making Scorpion Bowls!" Alfred cradled his phone, dumping vodka into the pitcher of cranberry juice. "It's not even snowing that bad, you live like, three doors down. Just walk."

"Alfred, I have the history readings to do for Monday," Kiku answered quickly.

"It's Friday and I have alcohol. Come onnn…"

Kiku could pretend all he wanted, but Alfred _knew_ the other teen would rather play videogames. That and the fact his parents were crazy pyschos who pressured Kiku way too much drove him out of the house more often than he would like. It was a good thing Alfred was an awesome friend.

"Look, just one drink, then you can go home and school."

Alfred could _hear_ the indecision. Oh, he had Kiku now. After being dragged to numerous house parties by Alfred, Kiku had built up a decent tolerance for alcohol. One teeny drink wouldn't do much. And, like Alfred had said, Kiku only lived a few doors down.

"I make a _mean_ Scorpion Bowl."

Kiku sighed. "I will stay for one hour, have one drink, and then go home."

"Sweet!"

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Alfred hurried over, a drink in his hand.

"Shit, it's really blowin' out there!" Alfred stuck his head out the door after Kiku had entered. "Fuck, it's cold!" Really fucking cold. Alfred hated the winter. He slammed the door, handing Kiku the pink drink.

Kiku shrugged off his coat. He looked tired—his English teacher had given him two essays in one week. Still, Alfred wasn't going to allow Kiku's busy schedule to affect bro bonding time.

"The Xbox?"

Kiku nodded, heading upstairs. "The Xbox."

Fucking A! Alfred grabbed the pitcher of alcohol and followed after Kiku. They set up their gaming station—two beanbags five feet away from the television—and settled in. Alfred sucked down the last of his second drink and hit the power button.

The lights went out.

"Oh, fuck me!"

Even in the gloom, Alfred could see Kiku's grin.

Alfred threw his controller, making sure it hit his bed. "Well, great! That's awesome. I didn't want to beat the damn owl-alien level, anyways. Dude, have another drink. I think I have some candles or a flashlight downstairs."

Alfred returned, candles and a lighter in hand. Kiku had dug up Monopoly—the bane of snow and thunder storms—and had gotten another drink. He set up the board as Alfred set up the candles, cursing as he burned himself. Fucking dark. Stupid snow storm.

"I'm the racecar," Alfred said, collapsing onto the bean bag. "And don't cheat. I know you do. I shouldn't let you be the banker," Alfred whined, reaching for the pitcher of alcohol. "Ridiculous."

"Maybe you shouldn't fail all your math classes," Kiku said, taking a sip of his drink. "You want to go first?"

Things progressed as they usually did. Kiku slowly bought more and more property, enraging Alfred the more he got drunk. Alfred nearly spilled his drink, rolling off of the beanbag and pointing at the stack of money by Kiku's side.

"You just took an extra money! I saw you!" Alfred army-crawled across the board, attempting to steal back his money. "You cheating—" He burst into giggles, head dropping into Kiku's lap.

Kiku laughed, pushing away Alfred's head and trying to rearrange the board. "You always do this when you lose! Alfred, Alfred, sit up, stop wiggling, please, I'm trying to—" The giggles stopped, and Alfred looked up. "What time is it?"

Alfred groaned, stopping his squirming. "Come on, just sleep over. It's still freakin' snowing out there. You're going to be like one of those old people who disappear in the snow. Sleep over."

Kiku stood, stumbling slightly. He straightened his back and took a deep breath. Oh, he was so wasted. That one drink had morphed into one more _one more_. And one more. And now Kiku sounded like he had fallen down the last few stairs.

Alfred laugh-snorted and stood, following Kiku and practically tumbling down the stairs. "Oh, my God, Kiku, get your coat off. We can play more Monopoly come on," he dragged out the words, attempting to steal Kiku's coat off of his back.

"Alfred, stop, my mother is going to worry about me. Alfred, get away from the door." Kiku laughed into his hand, nudging Alfred with his foot. "Please. My father is going to be furious."

"Yeah, but, it's cold out there." Alfred got on his knees, hugging Kiku close and grinning. "And it's so warm in here." Then again, they had two hours with no power. "We can _make_ it warm. _Jesus_ —your hands are freaking ice cubes! Get them off of my neck!"

Kiku nearly buckled at the knees, grinning, running his hands down Alfred's back under his shirt. Outside, a snowplow passed by, illuminating the living room orange. Alfred buried his face in Kiku's stomach, growling playfully.

"And my aunt is over for the holidays, Alfred, I can't stay over—" Kiku managed to catch his feet, only to have Alfred work his way underneath his shirt, kissing his stomach. "She'll go back and tell my family—"

Alfred pulled away enough to look over his shoulder. "Dude, there's so much snow out there, it's like, half your height. Plus all that snow is bad for your… Head. And throat. Or something…" He resumed kissing, working on Kiku's belt and fly.

Kiku shook his head, allowing himself to be pushed backward until he hit the couch. "Hm, maybe you could lend me a coat?" He kissed the top of Alfred's head.

"But it's so cold outside, Kiku. And it's so warm in here. We could start a fire." Alfred tore off Kiku's jeans, nipping playfully at his feet. "Or I could get you another drink?"

"I ought to say no, no, no."

Alfred froze near Kiku's inner thigh. "What?"

Kiku frowned. "I… The song?"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No, I… That song? The Christmas one? Where… She wants to…" Kiku sighed. "Never mind."

 **…**

"Alfred F. Jones! What did I tell you about dipping into the liquor cabinet?!"

Kiku grinned to himself as he got dressed in the downstairs bathroom. Served Alfred right; Kiku had woken up to fifteen angry voicemails from his mother.


	4. Hallucinogenics

Alfred was fucking wasted. He knew this as he stumbled into his dorm room, hiccupped, nearly threw up, and collapsed onto the ground. He tried to crawl to his bed, but it was just out of reach. Lifting a hand up, he grabbed the covers, trying to haul himself up.

The covers slid off the bed. Alfred groaned and curled into a ball on the floor. His eyes had just slid shut when he felt a sharp kick in the side.

"Alfred, I need the room."

Alfred rolled over, hissing. Gilbert leered, grabbing a hold of Alfred's foot and dragging him across the hardwood. Alfred kicked his foot, trying to wiggle free, but he was too drunk to do anything but squirm slightly.

The lights became significantly brighter as he was dragged into the hallway. Alfred threw the blanket over his head, letting out a vague noise of anger when he heard Gilbert chortling. There was another voice, one patronizing, and the dorm door shut.

Alfred peeked around the covers, catching sight of a sock on the doorknob. He let out another noise of anger, retreating into his bed covers. It took a few minutes of hearing soft voices from the other side of the door until Alfred's eyes to shut again.

For a while, there was nothing but blackness.

Alfred opened his eyes, and the hallway lights were off. He groaned, reaching up to catch the doorknob, but instead felt someone grab his wrist.

Alfred jerked back, ripping the blanket off of his head. He squinted in the dark—where the fuck had his glasses gone? There was nothing. Alfred looked over his shoulder, wondering if any of the dorm heads would wander by and scold him. Not seeing any, he looked—

Face.

Alfred launched backwards, yelling. There was another guy sitting across from him, cross-legged, playing one of the old fashioned Gameboys. The light from the screen only illuminated his pale face. It was fucking creepy.

"'Scue me," Alfred slurred, "Who the fuck're you?"

The guy looked up briefly before returning his attention to the screen. "For all the money your parents are paying for this place, you seem to get drunk an awful lot." The screen flickered green. "How was the party?"

Alfred rubbed his head, wondering where his fucking glasses had gone. "Stupid. I… I think they put somethin' in'the punch. Er… What're you playing?"

The guy's eyes flicked up again. "I do not think you will like this game very much. Here."

Alfred grabbed at the Gameboy, squinting at the screen. He nearly threw it away when Matthew's face flashed up on the screen. This was from two years ago—Matthew was missing his glasses, too. It was his face, disappointed, frowning.

Alfred gripped the game, hoping he could smash it. "How did you get this picture?"

The guy was gone. Alfred looked down to his bare hands. He blinked a couple of times, rubbing his eyes. He was too tired and too drunk for this shit. Disappearing men and pictures.

"Al?"

Alfred's head whipped up so fast it should have hurt. Matthew was standing in the doorframe of a dorm, arms crossed. There was light from behind him, and Alfred couldn't see his face. He didn't want to. Alfred opened and closed his mouth of couple of times.

"Is Dad still upset?"

Matthew shook his head, took a step back, and shut the door. Alfred lunged forward, trying to jam his hand—fuck _anything_ to stop the door from being shut, but as soon as the light disappeared, any indication of where the door should be was gone.

Alfred stood, pounding on dark wall.

"How is your dog?"

Alfred turned, and the same guy from before was standing there. He was flickering, like there was an invisible TV somewhere shining on him. Alfred pointed at where the door had been, looking from the guy back to the dark wall.

Why is everything so dark? It was just the guy who was light. It was very small, all of a sudden, and Alfred wondered where the walls were when he couldn't see them. The guy, Alfred needed to get out of here.

"Hey, you know where the hell the exit is?" Alfred edged closer, hoping the guy didn't vanish again. "How do I get out of here?"

The guy looked around. "That is up to you, I suppose. Who was that?"

Alfred's head nearly jerked back to where Matthew had been. "My brother." He took a couple of steps closer. "My dads aren't gonna' appear out of another dorm, are they? Who are you?"

The guy took a step back, and Alfred saw a window that he had been blocking. Alfred crept closer, keeping a close eye on the guy. He seemed content to just watch Alfred walk to the window. He kept flickering, like static.

It was the kitchen at the house. Alfred glanced over at the guy and then through the window once again. His dads were there, and Alfred very much wanted to look away and go through the window at the same time.

Francis looked at Alfred, but only the light above them shone; Alfred couldn't see his face, either. Arthur followed Francis' gaze, and Alfred ducked out of view, looking at that flickering man. He seemed—

"Ah, excuse me, you need to get out of the hallway."

Alfred's eyes snapped open, and the guy was above him. He let out a shout, scooting backwards, his head smashing into the wooden door frame. The guy took a step back, confusion and frustration written on his face.

"You are blocking the hallway," the guy repeated—Kiku, he was one of the dorm patrol men, so said his badge.

Alfred sat up against the wall, pulling the sheet closer around him. Why the fuck was this guy—why did his brother come to mind? Kiku crossed his arms, irritation etching onto his features the more Alfred stared at him.

Alfred opened his mouth, closed it, then, "Do you have a Gameboy?"

More confusion on Kiku's part. "Excuse me?"

Alfred reached up to massage his eyes, finding his glasses. "I… I have no fucking idea. I… You new?"


	5. No Connection

Alfred's eyes snapped opened. He listened for the sound of breathing, for rasping, for the sounds of something being knocked down. The bird's chattered in the corner, and it only took a few minutes before Alfred allowed his eyes to drift back shut.

Sometimes, he wondered what it would be like to wake up with something chewing on his toes.

Alfred searched the sheets until his found his phone. He squinted at the screen, too lazy to retrieve his glasses, and opened YouTube. For a moment, he held his breath, and the loading screen seemed to be taking _too_ long. Then, the newest uploads had all been watched. Only one was _new_.

Alfred clicked on it.

Kiku's voice filled Alfred's apartment.

"In a world without much hope…" The camera spun, and Kiku's apartment flashed around the video. It was about as neat as it needed to be, which wasn't very. "Only one man had the required merchandise…"

The screen faded to black.

Then, Pokemon cards. Kiku's entire bed was littered with Pokemon cards, old ones, new ones, and some Yugioh cards. Alfred grinned at the screen as Kiku went on to explain,

"Only though my collection of cards can I save the world." The camera pointed out the window, over Tokyo. From this height, the streets filled with the dead couldn't even be seen. It was just the blue sky and shining skyscrapers and the river. Kiku could sail away and never look back.

And then the video ended.

Alfred blinked at the screen and then sat up. His house was a mess. The windows hadn't been pretty to begin with, but the wood hastily boarding them up didn't add to the décor. Alfred had stopped throwing out the wrappers to food, so they collected on the ground like a fine mist.

To the computer. Alfred turned it on, clicking on Skype and opening YouTube.

Alfred waited for Kiku to log on. He clicked through the videos on YouTube, the channels he had followed. The most recent update had been a month ago. Now, it was just Kiku.

There had been bad-ASS-chick, who had enthusiastically posted her videos of kickboxing. She would assure them that she could kick the hell out of anything that came her way. Everyone, even the crazy German, had begged her not to try her luck outside.

There had been painer53920, who the Germans had left to save, all the way in Italy. There had been the Russian, who posted videos with vodka bottles surrounding him and insulted Alfred's skills at chess. The Russian had been safe until spring.

Alfred clicked on his camera, spinning in the chair and recording. "Day fifty-two. The tornado still hasn't dropped me. I continue to spin." He whistled cryptically and spun faster. The camera slipped out of his hands. "Fuck!"

A Skype call binged. Alfred turned and accepted, grinning at Kiku.

"Bro."

"I didn't get a video in return?"

"I was working on it," Alfred explained, gesturing over his shoulder. "How's the weather?"

Kiku looked over his shoulder. The light from the windows behind him made his face dark. "It's raining, but I think it will be sunny later. We should play WoW later. Maybe someone will be connected to the servers."

Alfred drummed his fingers on the desk. "I've been practicing on the flight simulator, actually."

Alfred couldn't see the expression on Kiku's face, but his voice was careful and calm. "Alfred, don't."

"I could _make_ it," Alfred leaned closer to the screen. "Kiku, I've checked everything. I could make it! I'd just have to leave midday, when the smart ones stay in the shade, and then the stupid ones would be easy to pick off."

"Alfred—"

"And most of the airports were abandoned early, you remember. I bet some of the planes are fully refueled. And it would be easy with my phone, a straight shot—"

" _Alfred_ —"

"—across the Pacific. And I've practiced all the flight simulators, I—"

" _Alfred_!"

Alfred closed his mouth, looked at his keyboard.

"You can't, Alfred."

"I have to."

Kiku jostled his laptop, and Alfred caught another glimpse of the city behind him. God, it must be amazing to have a view. Alfred's house suddenly seemed very small, the noise dampened by the closed hallways. The birds chattered.

"You sound like the others."

"I need to see you."

Even in the shadows and the pixels, Alfred saw the look that flashed across Kiku's face. The mouth open, then pulled into a tight line. The eyes that closed, the slight shake of the head. Alfred wanted to shake him, wanted to make him understand.

"Alfred, no."

"I'm doing it."

"You're acting like a child—"

"I can't stay here!" An edge of desperation to his voice, even though Alfred just wants to sound angry. He wanted to sound furious. He sounded tired, and sad, and frustrated. "Kiku, I'm running out of water and food. I can hear _them_ outside, they know I'm in here. I have to leave!"

"And then what happens when you die?! What am I going to do, Alfred? I can't—"

"You're delusional if you think we can keep this up! Something is going to give, what's going to happen when YouTube doesn't—"

"I can't lose you, too!" Kiku shouted, and the laptop almost fell. Again, the skyline.

And then the connection was lost.

Alfred stared at the screen. He hit the side of his computer. Checked the Internet. Nothing was connecting.

Alfred threw his computer and screamed.


	6. A Traditional Wedding

"That's a good look for you."

Kiku's back stiffened. "Now is not the time, Alfred," he whispered.

Alfred shrugged, shifting on his feet. "I'm just saying. If I had to stand behind anyone who was wearin' a kimono, it'd be you."

Kiku craned his neck slightly to look at Alfred. "It's the traditional dress for Japanese weddings."

"And you look cute in it."

Kiku checked to make sure the bride wasn't coming down the aisle. "My cousin requested that we wear them."

"Are you saying I don't look handsome in my tuxedo?" Alfred whispered, leaning down so his mouth was right by Kiku's ear.

"Alfred…" Kiku looked around the crowded courtyard.

"You know, I'm glad we finally bought a kimono…"

Kiku's head inched toward the right, catching Alfred's eye. "Oh?"

"It'll be fun to spice things up in the bedroom."

Kiku remained blushing all through the wedding photos.


	7. Fine Dining

"Everything's going to be fine."

Alfred looked over at Kiku, smiling uneasily. Usually, it was the blond who reassured Kiku during times like these. Alfred would laugh, wrap an arm around Kiku, and the two of them would face whatever situation Kiku was nervous about.

Not this time. Alfred was shifting on his feet, playing with his hands, and laughing to himself like he was deranged. The only other time Kiku had seen Alfred this anxious was when the two of them went on a ghost tour together.

"Yeah, I know," Alfred reached up to fix his glasses, forgetting he had put in his contacts for the visit. "It's just, well, you're the first person I ever really… You know."

Kiku felt his lips twitch into a smile. He rang the doorbell, ignoring Alfred's shocked look. He heard the distant sound of footsteps, a few calls in a different language, before the door opened.

"Matt, you're here?" Alfred squawked.

Matthew smiled at Kiku. "Hi," he said quietly, "I've heard a lot about you, Kiku. I'm glad my brother finally got off his lazy ass to come and bring you to meet us."

Kiku bowed slightly. "It's good to meet you as well, Matthew."

"Ahh let me see him!" A woman pushed by Matthew, grinning. Kiku blinked. She had the same sandy color hair as Alfred, the same toothy smiles, and the same sparkling blue eyes. "Oh, Alfred, I can't believe you didn't let us meet him earlier! He's adorable! Honey, look at him," she called back to her husband. She shook Kiku's hand. "I'm Melissa, but you can call me Mom!"

Alfred blushed, shooting an apologetic look to Kiku. Kiku was rushed into the Jones household, plopped down at the dinner table, and given a gigantic plate of food to eat; Kiku saw where Alfred had picked up his eating habits. The rest of the family sat down, probing Kiku and Alfred with questions about Japan. Though, the majority came from Melissa.

"Wow, fax machines? I haven't seen those in years, right, honey?"

Daniel hummed in agreement, sharing a look with Matthew.

Alfred nodded, digging into his steak. After the first five minutes, he had been himself again. "It's crazy, Ma! And their emergency rooms aren't open all the time—they're like a store, you can only go certain times of the day!"

Melissa gaped at Kiku. He cleared his throat. "Usually, we don't hurt ourselves enough to need a visit to an emergency room."

Melissa clucked, nudging her husband. "We should go visit Alfie and Kiku in Japan sometime! We could go sightseeing. Kiku!" She whirled on the quiet man. "My son told me you work for the Japanese government. What's that like?"

Kiku withered under the table's expectant gaze. "It's very busy," he finally supplied.

Both Melissa and Alfred nodded, one in understanding and one in agreement.

"It's true, Ma. Kiku works so much! It's a good thing I work nearby, or we'd never see each other." Alfred elbowed Kiku, grinning. "We've got the awesomest little apartment, though. Kiku makes sure everything's in its place."

Matthew chuckled from the end of the table. "And you mess it up, Alfred?"

Alfred and Melissa continued to twittered to each other, roping in Kiku to give a polite, one sentence answer to one of Melissa's questions. Neither his boyfriend nor Melissa seemed to care, elbowing their respective partners and continuing to comment on life in Japan.

Kiku had always wondered where Alfred had gotten his carefree personality from. It turns out, it was probably forced on him at a young age.


	8. Arranged Marriage

Alfred slouched against the car window, letting out a moan. When no one else in the car noticed, he let out an even bigger moan, bouncing his head off the glass for good measure. This wasn't fair, and the whole car was going to know, one way or another.

Alfred's father glanced away from the road and back at him. "You're the heir to a kingdom. You're marrying her for political reasons, not because we want to control your life."

Alfred moaned. "God, that doesn't even make _sense_! At least Matthew got to _pick_ who he got to marry. You're just bringing me to this chick's castle without so much as a day's freakin' notice!"

Alfred's mother sighed, sounding very much like an annoyed Alfred herself. "We gave you two and you're the first born, Alfred. I'm sorry, but that's how it is. You think I wanted to marry your father at first?" She adjusted her hair, muttering.

Alfred groaned, glaring out the window. They past a dragon farm, the huge, towering building covered with countless claw marks. The heir perked slightly.

"Hey, can I have a dragon for my wedding gift?"

"Absolutely no—"

"Maybe," Alfred's mother cut in.

 **…**

Alfred was unimpressed. Less a castle and more a giant, modern mansion. Glass and white and rectangles. The Jones lived in a _real_ castle; his soon-to-be-wife lived in a glorified cube.

Alfred practically dragged himself out of the car, wrinkling his suit. His mother gave him an exasperated look and his father straightened Alfred's tie. The heir rolled his eyes and moped, following after his parents.

The Honda's were nice and neat, like their house. They invited the Jones in, showing them around their little weird cube house. Alfred, meanwhile, was getting more and more disinterested. His bride was polite and boring. Alfred wanted to go home and play videogames.

"Excuse me," Alfred finally interrupted, "Is there a bathroom I could use?"

Mrs. Honda instructed him, and Alfred practically ran away.

And then got promptly lost.

"There are too many freaking turns in this stupid house," Alfred said to himself. "Honestly, I feel like I'm in a game of Zombina-Maze."

"Zombina?!"

Alfred jumped, turning on his heel. Someone had just spoken from the room he had passed. He inched his way back and the door swung open, revealing an excited looking guy.

"You play Zombina?"

Alfred glanced over the guy's shoulder into the room. It rivaled his own room—posters and games and gaming consoles galore. It was a nice, familiar sight in this weird house. Alfred raised an eyebrow, grinning.

"Fifteen. You?"

"Thirty-seven."

Alfred gaped. "Teach me your secrets."

 **…**

"Oh my God that makes so much sense!" Alfred yelled, waving his arms and nearly hurling the controller across the room. "Kiku, how did I not realize that I had to pick up the stupid _silver_ bullets to beat the wolf zombie? Argh."

Kiku nodded, face serious. "The game incorporates many myths and legends into its creatures. There are guides but…" He frowned. "It's cheating."

Alfred gawked. "Please tell me your sister is as good as a gamer as you. I'm stuck on so many of my games and you've beaten all the games I've _broken_. You have a Dragon-Pac arcade console." The heir rolled over on Kiku's bed and kicked his legs. "No one has a Dragon-Pac anymore."

Kiku let out a small laugh. "My sister is more interested in politics."

Alfred groaned. "Just my luck. He rolled back onto his stomach, facing Kiku's television. "Alright, show me how to beat the next level—no, wait, let me try." Alfred stuck out his tongue, concentrating. "Kiku, you're awesome."

Alfred pretended neither of them blushed.

 **...**

Alfred was much quieter on the ride back to their castle. Alfred's parents were concerned; their son had been _civil_ for most of the visit, though he did disappear for a little while towards the middle. His future wife and family-in-law had seemed unconcerned, talking about their youngest son sometimes playing video games with guests.

"Hey, guys," Alfred asked, "It doesn't matter who I marry in that family, right? Because their oldest is already married off, right?"

Alfred's dad hummed an agreement.

Alfred popped his lips. "So, technically, I could marry Kiku, right? The youngest son?"

His father started to protest, but Alfred's mother cut in. "Yeah, I don't see why not. You're not getting a dragon, though."

"Deal."


	9. Recon

Kiku checked his watch. Thirty-five minutes was pushing it, even for Alfred. Back to the binoculars.

The outpost was in the middle of nowhere. Despite the danger, Kiku couldn't help put appreciate the majestic, ragged peaks of the mountain. He didn't even mind the light snow that fell from the sky; it only made surveillance easier, and everything was beautiful.

Forty minutes. Kiku drummed a rhythm against binoculars with his fingers. He pulled his hat lower, wondering if any of the scouts could see his black hair. Alfred had bought him a white beanie; while Fiji beaches were beautiful, at night, Kiku's hair was like a black hole on the sand.

Forty-five. Kiku moved to the sniper, peering through the scope. Alfred was the gun man, Kiku was usually the one inside. However, Alfred had insisted with his usual zeal that he could "totally take this one."

Fifty minutes, and Kiku had finished tapping out the song. For being one of the best, Alfred sure could be stupid sometimes. Kiku slipped over the edge of the hill where he was stationed, moving quickly.

The building was a huge, industrious blight on the pristine mountain. Smoke curled from its chimneys, and the different wings and halls had spread from the original foundation like a cancer. Huts from the local people were scattered around the edge of the building. Kiku could hear the sound of a crying baby as he followed Alfred's tracks in the snow through the village.

Where—oh, Alfred had kicked in the door. Kiku sighed and moved toward the doorway, hand hovering over his gun. He paused, listening for footsteps before slowly entering the building.

After waiting for his eyes to adjust, Kiku continued on, drowned out from the hum of distant machinery. The walls sounded like they were breathing. As Kiku moved deeper into the structure.

Kiku tapped against his gun holster, wondering when—not if—he would run across a guard. Wouldn't even hear them coming.

And then the weight lifted off of Kiku's shoulders.

"Alfred—"

Alfred whipped around, gun aimed at Kiku's head with one hand. There was a second of painful silence and then Alfred lowered the gun, heaving a huge sigh.

"Jesus H. Christ, Kiku, you're lucky I didn't blow your kneecaps out!" He laughed quietly, moving closer so that they could hear one another. "Dunno' what time it is, but I got lost back there. Ran into this chick—She kicked my ass!"

Kiku's eyes flicked down to Alfred's other hand.

The blond nudged Kiku with his shoulder. "I'll be fine, 'kay? Now that you're here—you know the way to this place, right?"

"You were the one who insisted to go in," Kiku breathed, eyes still fixed on Alfred's hand. They had both learned how to shoot with either hand, but still, whoever this woman was had seriously hindered things. "What did she even do?"

"Ask her your—"

Alfred was hauled backwards through the air, landing on his back and letting out a sharp cough. A woman stood in front Kiku, cracking her knuckles and grinning wolfishly. Her long hair was tied back, and she was dressed in one of the military uniforms.

" _So_ you're _the other half of the infamous duo. Kiku Honda. Hopefully you're a little more interesting then Jones over there_." She cracked her neck.

Kiku whipped out his gun and pointed it at the soldier, observing her coldly.

" _He doesn't understand English_ ," Alfred wheezed, finally regaining his breath and standing upright. "There's only one of her around, I think. Just—"

A blur barreled from around the corner and slammed into Alfred, knocking him back onto the floor. The woman kicked upwards, slamming her boot into Kiku's wrists. He dropped the gun, retreated a few yards, flexing his hands.

The woman continued to blabber in her language, advancing and forcing Kiku away from Alfred. The other guard—Kiku could see his pale hair even in the gloom—had pinned Alfred down, bending the wounded hand and making Alfred yell in pain and frustration.

Kiku focused back on the woman—she was huge. So, Kiku charged her, kicking her right in between the legs. She let out a shrill yell, falling over and cradling herself. Kiku ran by her before she had time to recover, grabbing his gun.

The guard pinning down Alfred glared at Kiku, eyes flicking between him and the gun. Slowly, ever so slowly, he stood, hands in the air.

Alfred stood, cradling his hand. Then, he stepped toward the guard and slammed his elbow into the man's face, sending him spinning. Alfred turned to Kiku and gave him the biggest smile Kiku had ever seen.

"Kiku, that was fuckin' awesome."

Kiku was too busy controlling the grin spreading across his face; he didn't even hear the woman cock her own gun.


	10. Recon: Part Two

**A prequel of the previous chapter.**

* * *

These things weren't supposed to be painfully boring. Alfred sighed, swirling the champagne in his glass. It was pretty all right—everything was gold and red, and the food was awesome. Then again, he was in Japan, so everyone was formal as _fuck_.

He had attracted strange looks, but Alfred was used to brushing those off. By an hour into the event, hardly anyone noticed him. Except for that one guy in the corner. Alfred caught his eye and grinned.

Alfred was pretty sure his contact wasn't going to show up. It was a long way from Tokyo to the ass end of Japan, and she had warned Alfred she probably wasn't going to make it. Still, he had expected something from this night.

Alfred was never much good at keeping quite. In school, he had once taken this writing class lecture thing. Half the time, he sat around and listened to the professor drone on about structure and bla. It drove him nuts, so he had set up a mass note-passing operation to pass the time. Phones were prohibited, but Alfred had figured out a way to ferry one note from one end of the lecture hall to the other.

Seriously, who was that one guy in the corner?

Alfred finished his champagne and waltzed over to the man, skillfully dodging the couples dancing stiffly to the music. The man ignored Alfred, eyes fixed on one of the only graceful dancers in the room. He took a seat, leaning back.

"Noticed you noticing me," Alfred said softly, raising an eyebrow and trying to catch the man's eye. "If you don't mind me asking, you wouldn't happen to know when the next flight to Nagoya leaves, would you?"

"Your code is as good as your Japanese," the man responded, gracing Alfred with a passive, apathetic look.

Alfred whistled. "Easy, there. I'm just here to dance! Name's Alfred F. Jones, maybe you've heard of me? The incident in Egypt, that whole mess down in South Africa, the works."

The man didn't respond, still watching the couple dance. He tapped the rhythm of the song against his leg, and was otherwise perfectly still. The gloves looked expensive, but they were probably to hide the bruised knuckles and callouses.

"Honda."

Another whistle. "Nice to meet ya'. Not many people have gotten close to Tino, I'm a big fan. I didn't picture you quite so—"

Finally, eye contact. Alfred had Kiku's full attention, his fingers having stilled. The song ended, and there was polite applause from the other party members. Alfred adjusted his glasses, staring right back at Kiku.

"So dignified," Alfred finished.

That had more effect than anything else Alfred could had said. Kiku looked away, back at the dance floor. What was this guy even doing here? Last Alfred had heard, Kiku and the Finnish dude were holed up somewhere in Russia. And, anyways, low profile meeting places like this ball weren't exactly Kiku's venue.

Alfred lived at parties and brothels, while Kiku traversed endless skyscrapers.

Fuck this noise.

Alfred stood, offering his hand to Kiku. The whole party stilled, watching the scene.

"Want to dance?"

Kiku hardly glanced around. Alfred knew he had made a mistake when Kiku grasped his whole lower arm instead of just Alfred' hand. The significantly smaller man pulled Alfred down as he stood, neatly flipping Alfred over his hip.

Alfred landed on his back, winded. Kiku stood over him, face passive as ever. After a moment, Kiku smiled politely at the other guests and walked away.


End file.
